


Guinevere the Ginger Squirrel

by asphodelknox



Category: The Sword in the Stone (1963)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 01:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10503825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphodelknox/pseuds/asphodelknox
Summary: The girl squirrel leaves the forest for London and discovers something she never expected in the walls of the castle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction with mature and/or explicit content that is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. I absolutely do not condone minors reading this work of fiction and encourage anyone underage to stop reading immediately. Thank you.

She watched the squirrel-boy follow the wizard out of the forest and wiped her eyes with her paws. She sniffed, and as the squirrel-boy grew smaller in the distance she scurried down the tree and into her hollow.

She'd been fascinated by humans ever since she was a small squirrel. Her hollow was cozy, with small buttons she had collected, ribbons she had woven together to make a little quilt. The other squirrels in the nearby trees thought she was a bit odd. She loved sitting at the topmost branch of the tree watching the castle and it’s inhabitants. She would giggle at the antics of the humans and get laughed at by the other squirrels. She'd even attempted to bring short books home from the rubbish piles, but that had only fueled the teasing.

She tried to ignore them.

But then she started to realize that other squirrels her age had little squirrels following them. Other squirrels her age had partners.

She had no one.

She had a beautiful little hollow, filled with pretty pebbles from the river’s edge, and stray bluejay feathers and a sewing thimble that the housekeeper at the castle had thrown out one day. But she was lonely.

When the boy-squirrel arrived in her tree, euphoria had filled her like she hadn’t felt since she was a small squirrel. A new boy-squirrel! He didn’t know she didn’t have any friends. He might not think her button collection was strange.

And he made her laugh. He was polite. He touched her nose in a way that made her feel like he only had eyes for her. She had fallen in love with him at first sight.

Then he had almost been eaten by the wolf and she saved him and she hardly felt him change from boy-squirrel to squirrel-boy in her arms as she hugged him in relief.

And then she was alone again. His name was Arthur. He was...human. She had never wanted to be human more than in that moment.

She crawled under the ribbon quilt and curled up, wrapping her tail underneath her, crying herself to sleep. There would be other boy squirrels. There had to be.

 

 

There were no other boy squirrels. So, against her better judgment, she found her way to the castle. The animal kingdom was as excited as the humans about the new king and she wanted to see the hustle and bustle of Londontown. The other squirrels had been ignoring her even more than normal...maybe the city squirrels wouldn’t think she was so abnormal.

She wrapped her buttons and thimble in her ribbon blanket and set out. For being a squirrel, she made good time to London town. She only fell into one river and didn’t even lose her ribbon blanket the whole journey.

Londontown was crowded, busy, and much more loud than her tree in the forest had been. There were more cats than she had ever seen in the forest and after running and darting away from five different alley cats, she found herself at the base of a tree just across the moat from the castle.

She scurried up the tree, and checked behind her. A cat was starting the climb up the tree in hot pursuit. She glanced around anxiously, saw a reasonable jump to another tree and made a run for it.

It wasn’t until she had landed that she realized she had leaped all the way across the moat, leaving the cat hissing in frustration in the other tree. She grinned to herself, retreated closer to the trunk of the tree and glanced around.

She was right near a castle window. It looked like a bedroom, with a big bed, a desk, a bookshelf of books. The room was empty. There was an empty hollow in the tree and she climbed inside. With no one in the castle room, she’d have a chance to make the hollow her new home.

She placed her ribbon bundle in the hollow and peeked out the entrance, glancing up and down the branches. She was in a fir tree of some sort, which would be perfect when winter came. Fir trees were much warmer than the cherry tree she had lived in in the forest.

She found a few small pinecones, one large one (that was almost as large as she was and took forever to pull to her hollow), and a few twigs. She brought it all to her new hollow along with a small pelt of moss and in no time at all she had her ribbon blanket draped over a pine cone bed, a nice little pinecone table, and a moss rug. She was surveying her work with her paws on her hips when she heard a loud slam.

She turned around, startled and peeked out the entrance to her hollow. What she saw made her heart skip a beat.

It was the new king! He had a large crown on his head and a red cloak. And what was more...it was Arthur! The squirrel-boy!

“This is so hard!” He flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She scurried down a branch and onto his window ledge, wondering if it was actually him.

She stretched forward, hoping her paws wouldn’t slide off the ledge. She sniffed and he turned his head to face her.

It was him!

She squeaked in surprise. He gasped, recognizing her. And she fell off the ledge to the floor of his room, landing with a squeal.

Arthur jumped off the bed and raced over to his window where she lay. She tried moving her paws and squeaked again at the pain. Something was wrong with her back paw. She squeaked again and closed her eyes tight.

“Hey, you’re that squirrel!” He knelt down next to her, his forehead creased in a frown. “Hey, squirrel...are you alright?” He reached a hand out towards her.

She shook her head and squeaked again. She felt tears at the corners of her eyes. Her paw hurt. His hand gently slid underneath her and he picked her up.

“Hey, it’s ok, little squirrel.” He said, carrying her over to his bed and placing her on his pillow. “Does something hurt?”

She pointed at her back paw and attempted to move it again, which only caused her to squeak weakly in pain.

“Stay here and I’ll go get Merlin. He can fix your paw!” Arthur said, walking towards the door, but turned back just before exiting. “I’m glad to see you again girl squirrel.”

Her paw wasn't injured too terribly. Merlin didn't seem surprised to see her again but wouldn't say why and instead told Arthur that she wouldn't be able to walk for a few days. Arthur nestled a pillow for her next to his on the big bed, and despite having just made her hollow cozy, she didn't feel so bad anymore.

For the next week she would spend most of the day sleeping, until Arthur would come back each night. He would flop on the bed and roll over, telling her about his day, his studies, being King.

Arthur wasn't sure yet if he liked being King. “I like meeting people, but there are so many problems that I just don't know the answers to. I haven't even learned calculus yet!”

She cocked her head sideways and he noticed. “Oh...Merlin says that hasn't been discovered yet.”

She made a little chattering noise at him. He sighed, then shook his head, before rolling onto to side and propping his head up in his hand.

“You know little squirrel, I don't know your name.” He looked at her quizzically. “Do you have one?”

She shook her head. Squirrels didn't really have names, that was a human thing. She had always wished for one, but being a squirrel, the opportunity hadn't come up.

“Can I give you one? It'd be so much better than just calling you squirrel all the time.”

And this time she nodded enthusiastically.

“How about Morgan?” But she scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

“Elizabeth?” Again, she shook her head.

“Alright...how about...Mary?” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She could tell she was reaching now.

Arthur frowned... thinking, then a fourth name came to him. He eyes her and said “...well there's a girl by the name of Guinevere in the book I’m reading. How do you like that?”

She nodded her head. Guinevere. She did like that.

And from that day on, she was Guinevere the squirrel.

 

 

After her leg healed, Arthur took her with him everywhere. No one teased her either. Arthur never said anything rude to her, or teased her when she had scampered across his bookshelves, chattering in excitement about the stories he had there. He would read to her as they fell asleep each night.

It was like being loved.

She snuggled in his pocket while he heard his citizens dilemmas, curled up in front of the fireplace when he read in the library, and nibbled off his plate at mealtimes.

She liked their time in the library best. Her enthusiasm for human things had led her to teach herself how to read, so Arthur would pull down books for her while he studied.

She read everything she could get her paws on. History, literature, poetry, religious works. Every so often she would chatter to get Arthur’s attention. He would sit down in front of the fire on the rug next to her and read whatever section she gestured to. It was their way of talking, since she couldn't speak.

And oh, how she wished she could.

She would listen to Arthur’s council talk about his citizens' problems. She could hear him discussing with Merlin and his knights how to best lead the country to peace.

She had many ideas and squirreled them away. Maybe someday she could learn to write, and then she could share the ideas wIth Arthur. He was always asking her questions, hoping she could give him answers.

The best she could do would scamper through the shelves of the library, pulling out books and having him read passages. He could almost always figure out what she wanted to say eventually.

But she still wanted to write. And speak.

Merlin seemed to sense this and magicked a squirrel-size pen and inkwell for her, after she had been Arthur’s companion for a year. He had observed their conversation, as it were, and figured it was high time she had a clear way of communicating. She was a fast learner, and writing came easily after reading so much.

Arthur began to change after that. With Guinevere’s advice and their short letters and notes back and forth, he became more confident. He could cite his ideas from great books, and would use Guinevere's ideas to help his people.

It was all going so well. Arthur grew into a strong and wise King. He was beloved by his people, firm, and kind. And still every night, with very few exceptions, he and Guinevere would sit on his bed and he would talk to her about his day.

When he was sixteen, his chief advisor brought up the possibility of a queen. Arthur shot him down immediately. Not because he didn't want a queen. No, he just couldn't imagine meeting anyone he liked enough to marry. To talk to every night.

Why, they'd probably think Guinevere was a pest! And there was no way he was giving up Guinevere.

Over the years, she became his contact companion. She was there when he arrived home from his first battle. She had slept on his chest that night, instead of her pillow, and her presence had calmed him enough to get a good night’s sleep.

When nightmares of war came, or worries of his inadequacies surfaced, she would pull out encouraging pieces of poetry for him to read and write him notes. He kept these notes in a leather pocket that he wore under his shirt whenever he needed to feel particularly courageous or bold.

And she would always accompany him to the library. Together, they would write back and forth. Arthur would often get frustrated. He never said anything, but he couldn't help but think of how much he wished Guinevere was human. They'd be able to talk properly, he could have her by his side without anyone questioning where his ideas came from.

Perhaps she could be his queen.

It aggravated him to no end and as he neared his eighteenth birthday, the advisors began to push him to marry. Every day, at least two of his ten advisors would mention something about a wife or an heir or a queen. They recommended princesses and noblewomen from other countries, women they assured him, would love to marry the King of England.

He hated it. And he told Guinevere so, multiple times. She listened and empathized and shared passages of true love and following your heart.

Those were the only times he ever thought that maybe she was holding something back from him. Those conversations were the only ones where he felt she was trying to tell him something that he couldn't figure out.

He would never admit to anyone that he had fallen in love with a squirrel. But he had. And every day, the feeling gave him courage and despair at the same time.

Then one day before his eighteenth birthday, Arthur and Guinevere were sitting in the library, scribbling away to each other intensely when out of the blue Arthur threw down his quill, scrunched up his eyes and covered them with his fist and said, “Guinevere, I wish you were human!”

And as his fists fell from his eyes, Guinevere’s paws grew into long fingers with delicate fingernails, she grew five feet tall, and her tail morphed into long red hair. Her same big blue eyes looked at Arthur with shock and awe.

Arthur sat stunned, for a whole minute, watching as Guinevere gazed at her hands, ran her fingers through her hair, and lifted her skirt to peek at her slippered feet. She took a few steps and spun around, giggling and gasping in amazement.

She looked back up at him and to the surprise of both of them, she spoke. “Arthur, are you quite alright? You're so pale!”

Arthur swallowed hard and stood shakily. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

“Guinevere?” He was breathless but walked over to stand in front of her. He reached for her hand and traced her cheek and nose with his fingers.

“You're human?” He almost couldn't believe it. Was he dreaming? He had to be. He had dreamt about her being human too many times for it to actually be real.

Guinevere nodded. “I seem to be taking this a little easier than you.” She giggled again and it sounded so much like her squirrel chatterings that Arthur’s face broke into a wide grin. He swung his arms around her waist, picked her up and spun around, both of them laughing.

He set her down and held her close, resting his forehead on hers. “Guinevere, you're human. Like me.” He sounded very much out of breath. Now that he was actually holding her, it didn’t seem too far fetched to believe this wasn’t a dream after all.

She nodded, and let her hands rest on his shoulders.

“I've dreamed…” Arthur started, then sighed heavily. How could he ever begin to tell her? He tried again.“I've wished you could be human. So many times. You're the only person I feel like myself around. I felt crazy because you were a squirrel but I fell in love with you and I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you.”

Guinevere hummed in response. “I've wished to be human since before I can remember. Especially after I met you.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Guinevere just nodded and took his hand. “Let me show you something.” She led him back to his bedroom, which all of a sudden made him a little red in his cheeks, for reasons he wasn't sure he was ready to put his finger on just yet. He felt a longing for her that he had never felt before for anyone. It made him weak in the knees. He had to remind himself that he didn't have to constantly be touching her elbow, or hovering in her presence. She wasn't going to vanish... although he was terrified she would.

She walked over to the window, leaning out to reach into the tree and pulled out her small collection of buttons, and the ribbon blanket. Now, as a full grown woman, the blanket was only as large as her hand, but she cradled it as if it was her most prized possession.

Arthur leaned over her shoulder and marveled at the little blanket. “Did you make that? When you were a squirrel?” When she nodded he asked, “Why didn't you bring it in with you? It kind of matches your pillow…”

His gaze fell to his bed, where Guinevere had slept near him just last night like she had for almost five years. Would she still sleep near him now? He found that he wanted her to stay more than he could put into words.

She giggled, still sounding just a little like her prior squirrel self. “I'll have to learn to make a human sized one then.” She grinned to herself. It would be the perfect thing to occupy her hands when she and Arthur sat in the library to read. Now that she wouldn't have to write back and forth. Now that she could actually talk.

Arthur cleared his throat, then swallowed, hard, knowing whatever he said next would change their relationship forever. He wasn't eighteen years old for nothing. He wasn't king for nothing either. His advisers had been telling him to get married for two years! He had seen other people fall in love in his five years of being King. Maybe it could happen to him and Guinevere. Maybe it already had.

“Think you could make one big enough for our bed?” Despite being King since he was a young teenager, he hadn't heard himself sound quite so grown up before. He immediately turned beet red when he realized the impertinence of the question. She paused, and he felt his heart shatter from nerves at the silence.

She glanced from the bed to him and smiled. “I suppose I could. Winter is coming anyways, and I’ll need something to do while we read and discuss things together. I won't exactly be writing you notes anymore, will I?”

Arthur’s heart pieced itself back together and he grinned back, relieved. “So, you won't leave me?” Until he spoke it out loud, he hadn't realized how afraid he was that she wouldn't be interested in him once she was a woman.

She lifted her hand and gently stroked his cheek. “Arthur, I've been by your side for five years, as a squirrel, and I’ve loved you the entire time. There's nowhere else I would rather be as a human.”

Arthur grinned wider, if that was even possible. He lifted her hand from his face and kissed it.

Their sweet moment was interrupted by Merlin, who pranced into the room muttering about smokestacks and industrialization. He carried on for a good two minutes, Arthur and Guinevere frozen in place, her hand still in Arthur's, before the wizard stopped.

“Well!” He exclaimed loudly, looking between them. He didn’t even appear surprised. “It is about time isn't it, Archimedes?” The owl flew down and landed on Arthur’s window, a scowl on his face as Merlin chortled to himself.

“Time?” Arthur asked. “Time for what?”

“Why my dear boy,” Merlin started, “I told you that she picked you as her mate, didn’t I? Didn't I tell you that love was the most powerful force on earth?” The old wizard looked between them, lifted his eyes to the sky, and left the room shaking his head, muttering about registries and honeymoons.

It was then that Arthur realized he was still holding Guinevere’s hand. He also realized he didn't want to let go. He decided then and there that he wouldn't let go of her for the rest of their lives.

Guinevere didn't mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this sweet little story! I just couldn't get the little squirrel out of my head and had to write her story. Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you liked this fic, I’d love you to share it! Click [here](https://iamasphodelknox.tumblr.com/post/160755557014/title-guinevere-the-ginger-squirrel-author) for the masterpost to reblog! Find me on tumblr [here](https://iamasphodelknox.tumblr.com/).


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